


Wrecked

by the_deep_magic



Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Painplay, Smut, oversensitivity play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-01
Updated: 2012-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-31 08:58:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_deep_magic/pseuds/the_deep_magic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poor Chris has been looking a bit tired lately, hasn’t he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrecked

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains somewhat painful but consensual sex.

“Our call’s in four hours,” Zach mutters, nearly inaudible.  “We really need to get some sleep.”

“Your argument would be much more, _ah_ , persuasive,” Chris says, reaching up to grab the headboard, “if you weren’t currently sucking my left nut.”

A wet popping sound, then:  “You complaining?”

“No, just pointing out that my right one’s getting a bit lone— _hnnngh_ , fuck, there we go.”

Then, unfortunately, Zach inexplicably decides what they really need is some sort of inane _conversation_ , and so replaces his mouth with his fingers, which massage Chris’ balls in a truly talented manner but still can’t quite compete with Zach’s lips and tongue.  “How long do you think we can keep doing this?”

“Put your mouth back where it was and you can keep doing it as long as you want.”

“No, seriously,” Zach says, but switches to a firm rubbing motion behind Chris’ sac that makes Chris’ eyes cross ever so slightly.  “You’ve been mainlining Red Bull and I think I fell asleep with my eyes open at the table read yesterday.”

Again, Zach’s words would be making much more sense if his fingers weren’t traveling steadily downward to where… yeah, Zach can never resist playing with Chris’ hole while it’s still wet with lube, stretched and sensitive from a hard fuck, most recently over the back of Zach’s couch.  By Chris’ count, it’s the sixth piece of furniture they’ve defiled in three days, both of their beds withstanding multiple assaults.

It was also Chris’ third orgasm of the night, and it shouldn’t even be possible, but somehow between Zach’s mouth and his fingers, Chris’ cock is acting as though there’s going to be a number four in the reasonable future.  Sure, they’ve been spread out over the hours since dinner (Thai takeout, since Zach, despite his many talents, is still a hopelessly shitty cook) but Chris hasn’t been able to marathon like this since college.  It must be something about—

“ _Zach_ , Jesus, go easy on my ass.”  Chris arches a foot off the bed and squirms when Zach tries to work three fingers into him all at once.

Zach just grins.  “Haven’t had much practice lately?”

Yes, okay, for whatever reason, Chris isn’t in the habit of taking it up the ass when Zach’s not around, and of course Zach knows this.  Somehow.  “Yeah, my Tommy Gun cyberskin dildo got lost in the mail.  Now cut it out or I’ll revoke your butt privileges.”

It’s the emptiest of empty threats – now that he’s getting it again, Chris would last _maybe_ a day without it – but Zach eases Chris’ hips back down to the bed and rubs two fingers much more gently around his sore hole.  “ _Deepest_ apologies, my delicate flower.  However can I make it up to you?”

“You have to ask?”

Zach props himself up on an elbow to look Chris in the face and roll his eyes.  “Do you really not recognize an open invitation when you hear it?  That was your chance for _creativity_ , Pine.”

“Okay, fine, I want you to take your tongue—”

“Nope, moment’s passed.  Now I’m just going to have to suck your dick.”

Somehow Zach manages to make it sound like it’s some kind of punishment… and it takes Chris about two seconds to realize it kind of is.  As Zach starts eagerly applying his mouth, Chris’ cock starts to swell again, but it’s agonizingly slow to happen and it _aches_ , and not in that good anticipatory way.  Zach’s hand’s jerked him fast and hard at least twice tonight, and Chris is paying for it now.  His hips can’t seem to decide whether to thrust towards or away and end up just sort of shuddering in place, his abs clenching until they cramp.  “Ffffffffffuuu” is all he manages.

And Zach, the bastard, is laughing around his poor confused dick.  “Holy shit, you’re actually getting hard.  I didn’t think you had it in you.”

This, of course, inspires Zach to double his efforts, pinning Chris’ hips with his hands to keep him from squirming away.  Chris isn’t sure when his right leg started kicking ineffectually and the already-tangled sheets, but it was probably sometime after Zach gave a long, slurping suck that ended with the point of his tongue twisting against the underside of the head of Chris’ cock.

“You bastard.  You fucking _bastard_ ,” Chris spits out, but there’s no venom behind it, even though for several excruciating minutes he’s pretty sure he’s really not going to be able to come again, and Zach is just going to keep _doing_ this until one of them passes out.  Even a hand twisted in Zach’s hair – still sticky with gel even though it’s been abused pretty thoroughly tonight – has little effect, though Chris has to admit he’s not pulling nearly as hard as he could.

But then Zach changes it up for a second and suckles him surprisingly gently, and Chris feels a familiar heat in his balls.  It’s faint, but it’s there, and he _groans_ because Zach is going to be smug as fuck on set all day tomorrow (er, later today), winking at Chris on the way to the costume trailer because Chris is going to have to be very, very careful getting into those goddamn tight Starfleet uniform pants.  And forget sitting down, at all, ever.  If Zach could find a way to casually slip “I made Chris Pine come four times in one night” into conversation, he totally would.

Christ, Zach just isn’t going to _stop_ , and Chris’ hands abandon Zach’s hair to push down into the sheets, sliding on the sweat of his palms.  Chris starts up a steady chant of “fuck fuck _fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck_ ” right about the time he throws his head back against the pillow and accepts the fact that Zach really is going to suck his brains out through his dick, because that’s all that’s left of what used to be Chris, replaced now by a stinging, throbbing, aching bliss that’s just… not… quite… _fuck_ …

When he finally does come, Chris’ whole body shudders like a seizure patient and it’s more relief than pleasure, really, but at least Zach releases Chris’ dick after he’s milked it of maybe a drop of cum.  Chris collapses back to the bed like somebody’s pulled the plug on his central nervous system and he whimpers, too spent to even care about the sounds he’s making.

When Zach crawls up next to him, it’s all Chris can do to turn his head to face him.  “You fuck’r.  I sh’d…”

Zach laughs, though Chris doesn’t miss the way he has to fight to keep his eyelids from drooping.  “You should what?  Go right ahead.”

“T’morrow.”

“Mmm.  Maybe then we’ll finally get sick of fucking each other stupid so we can get some goddamn _sleep_.”

Given past precedent, Chris finds this highly unlikely, but he’s drifting into exhausted unconsciousness before his mind can even form the words.


End file.
